Jenga
by Angela-Marie
Summary: An almost tag for episode 3.08 A Very Supernatural Christmas. Sam and Dean play a game, get a little over competitive and talk about more than just Jenga. Wee!Chesters


**The Game**

**By Angela-Marie**

**Disclaimer: **Major props to Kripke for creating such an awesome show with such fun to abuse characters. But these characters are his, not mine.

_A/N: So I was watching A Very Supernatural Christmas and I got a huge kick out of Dean's comment about playing Jenga. I began to wonder what he and Sam would be like playing Jenga together. And I came up with this little Wee!Chester story. It takes place the day after Christmas during the year that the flashback occurs (so Sam would be 8 and Dean would be 12.)_

It wasn't until the next afternoon, when Dad still hadn't returned and the Christmas specials were wearing thin on the brother's nerves, that Dean suggested a game of Jenga. Sam was about to ask where the heck they were going to get a Jenga set when he followed Dean's gaze to a brand new box labeled "Jenga" alongside the other presents that Dean had stolen from the house down the block. Sam sighed.

"I thought you were gonna give those presents back to the house they came from."

"I was," Dean defended. "But I just had to check first to see if there was anything good. There wasn't. Except for the Jenga game. You know I love Jenga. And I totally kick ass at it!"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, right. You're just trying to get me to play so you don't have to return the presents."

"And you're just too much of a girl to play me. You'd probably cry when you lost anyway."

"Shut up, Dean," Sam huffed. "Open the stupid game."

Dean laughed. "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" He grabbed the box, broke open the seal, turned it upside down, and dumped its contents onto the small kitchen table. When a few blocks fell to the floor, Sam dropped to a crouch, gathered them up, and returned them to the pile on the table.

Eager to begin the game, Dean quickly began stacking them up into piles of three and building a tower. Sam, meanwhile, grabbed the plastic side of the container and started lining blocks up alongside it, straightening the small tower each time a new row was added. When all of the blocks were stacked in one of the two piles, (Dean was quick to point out how much taller his tower was,) Sam placed his own structure on top of Dean's and immediately cupped his hands across each side of the bottom half, compensating for his brother's sloppy building. He swatted Dean's hands away as Dean attempted to help him out.

"C'mon. S'not ready yet." Willing to humor his kid brother, Dean backed away from the structure, fingering the new necklace that dangled from his neck with an almost grin on his face.

Thirty seconds later, Sam was satisfied. "We're good to go," he informed his older brother.

"Sweet. I'm first." Dean imagined himself approaching the tower like a fierce predator coming across an unsuspecting prey. He didn't hesitate to throw himself into the game, seizing an end piece from the bottom row, pulling it out with ease, and placing it atop the symmetrical structure, perpendicular to the row under it.

"Dean, why'd you take that one first?" Sam knew he sounded whiny, but he was a bit taken aback at how aggressively Dean had approached the fragile tower. "Now everything's gonna be all off balance and we're not gonna get the tower high at all!"

"You worry too much, Sammy. This game's a piece a cake. Anyway, you know I like a challenge."

"Yeah. But you're making it harder for me too."

"Exactly."

"You're so lame, Dean."

"Shut up and play."

Sam looked at the Jenga game from his spot by the kitchen table, making no move toward it. He studied the structure, noting that the absent piece on the bottom was fairly well counterbalanced by the block on the far side of the top. Looking to the bottom of the structure, he noticed that the block in the middle of the second row had been knocked loose when Dean removed the first piece. Victorious, Sam stepped over to the structure and crouched down so that he was at eye level with the piece.

Dean sighed. "It's not golf, Sammy. Just take the friggin' piece already."

Sam ignored his older brother, but reached his hand toward the structure anyway. He had just begun to poke the piece through to the other side when he was startled by a voice over his shoulder.

"Jenga...jenga...jenga..." Dean was chanting.

Sam pulled his fingers back and glared at the boy hovering over his shoulder. "Cut it out, Dean."

"That's what you're supposed to do. You ever see those commercials where all those kids are standing around playing Jenga. And the entire time they're playing they're going 'jenga...jenga...jenga' until the tower falls over."

"That's just stupid." Sam pointed out. "And distracting. I'm not gonna play with you if you keep distracting me!"

"Fine," Dean backed off, arms raised in the air. Satisfied that his brother had submitted to his request, Sam returned to the game, carefully applying pressure to one end of the block with his index finger. He increased the pressure and the piece began to slide through. Ever so slowly it progressed through to the other side. Once it was about halfway out, Sam stopped, stood up, and moved to the opposite side of the table. He resumed his crouch, grasped the end of the block, and began to lightly pull.

"Geez, Grandma, could you hurry it up?" Startled, Sam pulled a bit harder then he meant to, causing the entire structure to wobble precariously. He held his hands out, ready to catch the pieces if they fell. Fortunately, the tower stood strong. Sam allowed himself to relax and turned angrily to his brother.

"Seriously. Gimme a break. You're supposed to be careful. You almost made me lose and that woulda been cheating." Dean backed up in mock surrender, arms raised innocently. Sam took a few moments to compose himself before pulling the block fully out of the tower. Sighing in relief, he placed the piece alongside Dean's.

And the game continued. During Dean's turns, he'd dive at the first piece he saw and rip it out of the tower, grinning cockily and practically throwing it on top. Sam scrutinized each move, analyzing the weight balance of the structure as a whole before selecting a piece, all the time snapping at Dean to quit heckling him.

Once the tower height had increased by more than six rows, even Dean had to slow down slightly, but he still grabbed pieces with little regard for the difficulty in removing them. As Sam placed the first block on top of the newest row, the structure teetered once again. Sam didn't so much as breathe as he stared horrified at the edifice in front of him. However, the tower straightened itself out after a few seconds and Sam looked triumphantly to Dean, silently willing him to even try to remove a block without sending the structure tumbling.

Dean self-assuredly moved in, grabbing at a piece near the top and pulling delicately enough so that the structure wobbled but didn't overturn. But he applied a bit too much force, jarring several of the pieces in the rows above. Still holding the block that he had partially removed, he attempted to figure out the best method of pulling it out fully without knocking the whole thing over.

"You're messing it all up!" Sam cried, dismayed at how off-center everything was. Instinctively, he grabbed the top of the tower, intending to realign the blocks. However, before his hand could do more than brush the structure, the entire thing toppled sideways, away from both brothers.

Sam was staring at the collection of blocks scattered across the table, shell-shocked, when Dean spoke up. "Told ya I'd win." Sam could hear the smile in his voice and gritted his teeth.

"You didn't win. I just straightening up the blocks and your stupid move tipped it over."

"Hate to break it to you, Sammy, but I got my block out just fine. You were the one who knocked it over." Dean reached down to pick up a block that had fallen to the floor. "But hey, it's all good. Big brothers are supposed to win. It's what we do."

"You're a jerk, Dean!" Sam huffed, storming angrily over to his bed on the far side of the room. He plunked himself onto his mattress and crossed his arms, deliberately facing away from the brother he'd left back at the kitchen table.

Dean laughed at the absurdity of Sam's outrage. "Dude. It's just a game."

"Yeah. A game that I won. But you're too stupid to admit it." Sam spoke to the wall rather than his brother. "You think just 'cause you're older you get to win at everything. But you're just an idiot cheater." Sam clenched his teeth and suddenly wished that he hadn't accepted his brother's challenge in the first place.

Dean sighed, absently fingering the Jenga block that he hadn't quite successfully removed from the tower. He stood there silently, trying to decide the best way to approach his fuming brother.

It was less than a minute later when Sam felt his mattress sink down with the added weight of his older brother's body. He kept his gaze toward the wall, however, pointedly ignoring the boy beside him.

"Hey Sammy. I'm sorry." Dean acknowledged, resisting the urge to either place a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder or smack him upside the head. "It was stupid for me to grab that piece. I knocked the tower over. You definitely won."

"Whatever Dean." Sam griped. "I'm not a baby. You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better. Like you always do."

"What do you mean by that?" Dean didn't like how defensive he sounded.

"Maybe I'm just sick of you and dad keeping secrets from me."

Dean groaned. "Sammy, you know our biggest secret now. And I'm not even sure that you really wanted to know in the first place. What more do you want?"

At this point Sam turned to face Dean, glaring at him through alarmingly moist eyes. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't've even told me if I hadn't found Dad's journal. Because I'm too little to know these things."

"Dude, you're not too little. Sometimes I even forget that you're not the same age as me. And you know way more about life and stuff than any other eight year old kid. But Sam, I didn't not tell you because you're too little. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to see the look on your face when you found out what's really out there."

Sam wiped suspiciously at his left eye before he spoke again. "Dean, I'm ok. And I'm just as much a part of this family as you and Dad are. So quit treatin' me like I'm five."

"You're right," Dean acknowledged, and allowed the following silence to penetrate the tension that had so quickly established itself between himself and his brother, who suddenly sounded much older than his eight years would suggest.

After digesting his brother's newfound wisdom, Dean continued. "So how about I won't keep any more secrets from you?" Sam's glare softened, apparently realizing that he'd won. "And if Dad tells me something that involves you or monsters or anything you should know about, I promise I'll let you know. Even if Dad tells me not to tell you. Does that work?"

"You really promise? Even if Dad tells you not to tell me?"

"Yup. Because you know why?"

"Why?" Sam sounded genuinely curious.

"Because even though Dad's a superhero, you're my kid brother."

Sam considered this for a moment before nodding. "Thanks."

"No problem, Sammy." Dean picked himself up off the bed and moved to the kitchen table to return the Jenga pieces to their box. "And we'll call Jenga a tie."

"Fine," Sam relented, permitting this compromise in lieu of Dean's recent promise.

"Okay, Bitch."

"Dean!"

Dean chuckled. "C'mon Samantha, lighten up." Sam frowned at the nickname that he hated so much. And Dean, suddenly terrified that Sam would become angry again, hurried to redeem himself. "Look man, let's make a deal. What if I can call you a bitch and you can't get mad at me? But, every time I call you a bitch, you can call me a jerk and I can't get mad at you?"

Sam considered this offer for a moment before responding. "Why do you get to use a cuss word and I don't?"

"Because Dad would kill me if he knew I was teaching you this stuff...bitch"

"Jerk." Sam smiled and lay back onto his bed, resting his head on the less than comfortable pillow. He stared aimlessly at the cracked white ceiling, listening to his brother picking up their mess.

It was Dean who finally broke the silence. "So Sammy..."

"Yeah, Dean?"

"...Wanna play Monopoly?"


End file.
